Stop Recording
by DILestrudel
Summary: The events of Entry 26 and after.


Alex was doing okay. Better, if he had to pick a word. His life had inexplicably calmed down, to the point where he was able to hold a part time job. Nothing particularly interesting, of course, nor did the job itself actually pertain to what he had went to school for, but jobs requiring a major in film were few and far between. It was enough to keep him financially stable, anyway. It was Saturday now, a pleasant April afternoon, and Alex found himself sprawled on his couch, reading a Psychology Today article on his laptop and trying very hard not to relate it to his life. His past life, he corrected himself. He had moved on from the supernatural terrors, the past few months had proved that. There hadn't been a single unusual instance since...Seth. Since Seth had gone missing. Since all of them had gone missing. Maybe that was what that thing had wanted. Alex bit his lip and refocused on the article, hands habitually poised over the keyboard, ready to type. He didn't even look up when Amy entered the room, holding something in her hand.

"So when did this happen?" she asked. "When did what happen?" Alex responded, not looking up from the screen. Amy tskd a little, the way she did when she thought she was asking an obvious question. "When did we get a camera?" It took Alex a few moments to remember to breathe. He had stopped reading, and was instead focusing on the little white spaces between the letters of the articles words. Where had Amy found a camera? What camera was it? Surely not that camera…. "Alex, come on!" Amy persisted. Alex realized he hadn't responded to her at all. "We don't have a camera." he replied, looking up at Amy. The sight of her holding the camera almost made him nauseous. Amy and that camera were two different worlds, ones he certainly did not want to mix. "Yes, we do." Amy retorted, looking almost confused by Alex's response. The words had come out of his mouth before he really processed them. Alex could only deny so many things into nonexistence…. "Where did you get that?" he asked, changing tones. Perhaps there was a slight possibility that it wasn't the camera he thought it was. "It was in the closet" Amy said, shifting on her feet, "There was a tape already in it, but when I tried to watch it, it was messed up or something… I don't know." There were hundreds of possibilities as to what could be on the tape, none of them things that Alex wanted Amy to see. "Um...that's probably just my old camera from college. I probably stuck it back in there when we moved. I was just gonna sell it." Alex said, looking back at his laptop. If he could make the camera sound boring, perhaps Amy would put it away. "But I thought we didn't have a camera." she sassed back. Of course she would. She was too smart for her own good. "It….doesn't matter. We're gonna sell it. Just, please put it back. Stop recording." Alex pleaded. He was starting to feel very anxious about the whole situation. Something was off, and he was certain that the camera was causing it. "Fine. I'm not recording anymore." Amy said. Alex would have believed her, had he not spent years of his life around cameras. "I can still see the light." he persisted, waiting for Amy to turn the camera off.

"Are you okay, Alex?" Amy questioned, sounding almost hurt. It was evident by her face that she hadn't expected this reaction about the camera from him. He would have apologised had he not been unnerved. "I'm fine. Just put it back please." Alex said, attempting to return to his article. He couldn't bring himself to read anymore, not until the camera had been put away. "You're in a really odd mood right now." Amy said, waiting for Alex to respond. He couldn't explain to her why. "Fine." she said, realizing that Alex wouldn't be giving a response, before turning and walking out of the room. Then she screamed. Alex was on his feet in an instant, his laptop that had cost almost as much as a months rent flung carelessly to the side. "AMY!" he called, hurtling into the next room. She was at the bottom of the stairs, attempting to scramble to her feet, camera still in her hand and recording. "What is that?!" she panted, focusing the camera down the hall. Alex looked up, too paralyzed with fear to scream. It was in his house now. "Get out, right now!" Alex shouted, his words meant for both Amy and the Operator. He put a hand on Amy's back, shoving her away from the hall. "What is that?!" she repeated frantically. Alex ignored her. "Jump out the window." he said, opening it with one hand. "Get down to the street. Go!" Amy looked panicked, whether from the thing in the hall or the fact that he had just ordered her to jump out of the second story window, Alex was unsure. "I'll be right behind you." he added. "Okay. Okay." she choked out, turning around and pressing out the window. Alex helped her out, trying to physically shield her from that thing as much as he could. His back was to it, and he had no idea how close it had gotten.

With Amy safely out the window, Alex turned around briefly, facing the hall. It was feet away, almost close enough to touch. Alex could taste blood. He had bit his tongue in an effort to prevent himself from screaming. He tumbled out the window, skidding to a stop on the tiled roof. He did not know if it was still coming. Half falling off the roof, Alex sprinted to the road, where Amy was obediently waiting, camera still in hand. The time it would have taken for Alex to ask her to drop it would have been a waste. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and ran. Amy did not question him, matching his pace after a few moments. She still had the camera in her right hand, filming the asphalt of the road as they ran. They only made it three blocks before it appeared again, 10 yards ahead in the middle of the road. Amy registered its sudden materialization first, skidding to a halt. Alex stumbled forward, crumpling to his knees. His vice like grip on Amy's left wrist pulled her down as well. Alex coughed violently, flecks of blood spattering onto the pavement. "Alex, come on!" Amy pleaded, attempting to pull him up. It was feet away now, looming over them. The sun seemed to dim and Amy pulled more violently on Alex's arm. He was still now, aside from the heavy rises and falls of his chest. Amy dropped the camera.

It was dark outside when Alex woke up on his couch. He blinked, surprised that he had fallen asleep. He didn't recall falling asleep. Amy lay, head on his chest, inhaling and exhaling warm breaths into his t-shirt. Alex smiled a little to himself, attempting to move his right arm. It had fallen asleep. He numbly detached it from Amy's wrist, which he had apparently fallen asleep holding. It took him a few seconds to register the bruises on her wrist, matching his fingers. Alex glanced around in alarm. He smelled of sweat, as did Amy. Something was off. "Amy." Alex whispered gently into her hair, trying not to alarm her. Something felt terribly familiar about this situation. "Yeah?" she replied, stirring and lifting her head from his chest. "You okay?" Alex asked, looking at her. Other than her wrist, she looked otherwise unharmed. "Yeah?" Amy replied, looking startled by his tone. "I just… I guess I had a bad dream or something…. I dunno.." Alex said, looking around again, "I'm sorry about your wrist." "What?" Amy questioned, looking down in confusion. She prodded at the bruises, looking just as surprised as Alex had. "It's… It's okay." she said, looking bewildered. "I don't remember falling asleep." she said finally. Something in Alex's mind tried to make connections to previous events, memories…. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Alex said reassuringly, putting a hand on Amy's knee. Amy nodded after a few moments. On the coffee table, a camera sat, missing its tape.


End file.
